Oregon – Page 9 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Oregon Fires

Photo Credits to the Douglas Forest Protective Association from their (Facebook Page Link )

Time for a little bit of update now that we are back home in Rocky Point. We planned a few days in Grants Pass, and as luck would have it, we arrived the morning after more than 3,000 lightning strikes from a summer storm ignited at least 54 fires on private and BLM lands in Southern Oregon. Living in the west as we do, keeping track of the fire situation is part of the routine, and we aren’t surprised to see smoke rising from one direction or another. Some years are worse than others. The year I moved to Klamath Falls in 2002, the Biscuit Fire burned more than 500,000 acres in the Siskiyou National Forest and the Kalmiopsis Wilderness. Much controversy continues to this day about whether or not to allow salvage logging in these wild areas.
Several times in the last few years we have cancelled an August camping trip to one place or another due to smoke, and some of you may remember our travels last summer in the upper West that were marred by smoke from huge fires in Idaho and Montana. There are many good resources to help keep track of fires and smoke, the best of which is found at the Incident Information website, http://www.inciweb.org. This year, however, it was several days before the webmasters of this amazing site were able to keep up to date with all the rapidly changing information for the Douglas Complex fires. Another very helpful website related to fire and smoke is on Weather Underground, where the WunderMap for an area has a layer for active fires that shows the current fire situation and the extent of smoke cover.
Actually, by the time we reached the pass last Saturday morning we didn’t need a website to know that smoke was probably going to be an issue for the entire time we planned to work at the cottage. Once these fires start, it takes some serious weather to calm them down, and our rains don’t usually show up until October. In the mean time, we get thunderstorms, with or without dry lightning, and very little real moisture. Sometimes a marine system will come in and cause a shift and the smoke clears a bit, but it is usually around one way or another after a fire like this gets under way.
Our main goal for the trip was to make sure we got the wood split from the trees we took down last month before it got too dry. Mo loaded up the splitter in the big trailer and hooked it up to the truck for the trip. We took the MoHo since daughter Deb is now living in the little cottage (one bedroom only) and we didn’t want to completely invade her space.
It turned out to be an incredibly productive trip, in spite of the heavy smoke. We got all the wood split, with close to a cord of oak and about 3/4 cord of madrone, probably the best firewood around in Oregon. The big rounds were heavy, but with the three of us working, (Mo does the splitting part) we managed to get it all done on the first day we were there. We have a good ten cords stored here at home already, so plan to let the hardwood dry at the cottage before bringing it back here in a year or so. We heat with wood in Rocky Point, but the cottage has a gas heater that works just fine. No fireplace.
We had a great time with Deb, and she had a chance to show her strength and skill at demolition, tearing out a lot of the old wood and shelves and yukky “stuff” that was in the old bunkhouse. We will eventually tear down the bunkhouse add-ons, but the main part of the building will be saved for Mo’s workshop. Mo worked a lot on the sink plumbing again, and on building the wall and new cupboard that separates the bath and kitchen. Finally we don’t have to hang a quilt for bathroom privacy! Of course, her projects are not made any easier by the fact that nothing is even close to plumb in the little cottage and the reclaimed wood she is using is rarely square. Lots of measuring and sawing involved.
Deb and I managed to get a full load of metal for the recyclers and made almost enough money to pay for the full load that we took to the dump the next morning. I have no idea how many dump loads we have hauled out of that place, but sooner or later we will get it all cleaned up. In the midst of all the work, we cooked some good meals and enjoyed sitting at the table in the old fashioned kitchen in front of the windows. Deb and I took time to play some rousing games of Hand and Foot, my favorite! I taught her how, but she is fast catching up to me. Dang!
We also took an evening to go see “The Lone Ranger”. Mo didn’t want to go, so we had a mom and daughter night with popcorn and one of the most entertaining movie experiences I have had in a long time. There were some great sight gags, gorgeous photography of very familiar places I have traveled, including the exact spot where I built a campfire in Valley of the Gods back in 2004. We both love Johnny Depp and his performance was great. I am really glad that I didn’t let some of the negative things I have heard about the movie keep me from at least giving it a try.
We came home to Rocky Point to discover smoky skies on this side of the Cascade crest as well, and our first night back included another big thunderstorm that ignited a few more fires on this side of the mountain. One bolt hit right on top of us, and I had an especially good view of it through the skylights! Do you suppose that lightning could come in through those roof windows??
We live in the forest. Fire happens here. It could happen to us. This part of Rocky Point hasn’t burned in more than 100 years. I hope I don’t ever have to live through what so many have endured in the last few years. I read about Nan trying to help her daughter save her cabin near Idyllwild, and Gaelyn returning home to her lot in Arizona with sadness. But for the grace of God, we could be there as well. I am thankful every single day.

Camping in a Caldera

Monday July 16 at East Lake in the Newberry Caldera east of Lapine, southeast of Bend, Oregon

Temperature at 9am 66 degrees F, last night low T 55 degrees F, might get to 79 today, or not.

Something about being in the mountains by a beautiful reflective lake makes time completely irrelevant. I know that it is morning. There are a few high puffy clouds coming in from the west that hint that there may be a shift in the weather on the way, but I have no way to predict what could happen except my own personal weather savvy from looking at the sky and feeling the air.

We have been here at East Lake, the smaller and quieter of two lovely lakes at Newberry Crater for a few days now. Not sure how many, maybe three? I vaguely remember going to the Sisters Quilt Show last Saturday, but it has already become a bit of a memory filled in and muted by hours and hours of images of reflected water and sky. I’ll have to blog about the quilt show eventually, maybe when I get back home and get out of this lazy lake mode.

Yesterday early in the morning we kayaked east and found the hot springs that I knew were tucked in along the shoreline, small pools hand dug in the pumice sands to moderate the hottest temperatures coming from the bubbling springs. A mayfly hatch made for interesting reflections on the perfectly still water, frustrating all the fishermen with their various catch methods. Those big black-backed trout were very happy filling up on mayflies. Seems as though someone dumped chubs in this lake and instead of poisoning the lake with rotenone as was done on Diamond Lake, they imported some non native Canadian Black Backed trout, or maybe they are European. Supposedly they are strong predators of chubs and the native trout can recuperate. Reminds me a bit of rabbits in Australia.

I was glad that those bugs weren’t very interested in landing on me and didn’t seem to bite. We heard that they only hatched yesterday, but a few non biting mayflies are nothing compared to mosquitoes and gnats, neither of which seem to have found this perfect little lake in the mountains.

There are incredible geologic stories of the Newberry Caldera, recent volcanism, obsidian flows, there is even a nice visitor center not far from the entrance to the national whatever area that this is. I don’t know. I don’t have internet or even a cell signal to look up and research every little thing, I just have my memories and much like the weather, I can only share what is already tucked away in my mind. I am completely disconnected from the outside world. All I have is water, pumice sand beaches, blue blue skies, clean clear water, and yes, an absolutely to die for, perfect campsite right on the beach.

Roger and Nancy provided a couple of nights of easy camping in their driveway in Lapine with hookups and a great dinner of bbq chicken on one night and we all shared a yummy treat dinner at McMennimen’s in Bend the night of the quilt show. On Sunday we packed up the rigs and headed east just an hour or so to Paulina and East Lake in the Newberry Crater area. We thought that by Sunday afternoon the campgrounds should have quieted enough that we could get a campsite without much trouble.

Surprise! East Lake is a very popular little fishing lake for the locals, and we only managed to snag a good beach front site by walking the park, checking the exit dates on all the tags, and finally asking one camper when he planned to leave. He was very accommodating, and said if we paid now, we could take possession of his site when he pulled out in a couple of hours. I guess that is the way it is done here. We got here about two hours before the 2PM exit time, and it wasn’t a bit too early since other folks were checking tags after us and any later than we were wouldn’t have been so lucky.

Even on a Sunday night, all the front row water sites were taken, but by Monday the park did have a very few unoccupied sites toward the back row of the park. We are camped at East Lake Campground, the best one in our opinion because of its easy access to the water, although there are bigger campgrounds in the area, and this one only has 24 sites. There is a boat launch and a large parking area for boat trailers.

Seems as though fishing is the most popular pastime here, and the first night we saw a young family pull in with a nice big string of trout for dinner. After the mayfly hatch, however, the catch went way down. The lake has a 10 mph limit so that makes it wonderful for kayakers like us. I haven’t yet learned how to paddle at 10 mph.

I really have lost track of time, a nice thing. We have been out in the boats paddling in several directions, found little bays and inlets, and of course, the hot springs. We have cooked suppers to share at the picnic table, and in Roger’s rig when the evening winds were a bit too much. We have had campfires with the great juniper wood Mo loaded up from home, and learned to make S’mor’s with Less, a new favorite of mine. S’mores are just too dry for me, but if you slip a perfect little square of chocolate inside a perfectly done marshmallow, the chocolate melts and ohmy!! Even Roger who refuses to eat marshmallows decided it looked too good to pass up and he loved the one that he tried.

Last night brought a bit of a downer for us, though, when we decided to go for a walk and Nancy discovered they had locked themselves out of their rig. No spare key anywhere. She also thought their car was locked, and of course we don’t have a car with us either. There is no cell phone service here, so we walked down to the camp host who offered a hangar and if needed a ride over to Paulina Lake and his boss who had a land line. Nancy’s wallet, everything, was in the rig, so she didn’t even have phone numbers of Good Sam, or any information to try to call. It was already getting dark and Mo and I were thinking we might need to break out the sofa bed (not ever used) and picturing a night in our rig with 4 adults, 2 dogs, and an elderly cat was interesting.

Lo and behold, when Roger checked their Honda, it wasn’t locked! Still no wallet or rig keys, but at least one little Honda key in the glove box, something called a “valet key” that started the car. They decided the best option would be to drive back home (just an hour from here) where they could make the needed phone calls, have access to their information, and sleep in their own bed. We are hoping they will show up here sometime this morning with someone to open up the rig and all will be well.

Tuesday July 17 Sherry, this one is for you!

East Lake Hot Spring is a magical little spring that emerges right along the shoreline of the caldera lake bubbling up through the pumice sands. People have scooped out the sand into a couple of small pools, and edged them with rocks and logs to keep the hot water contained. The pumice is lightweight and a bit crunchy, but you can scoop it out deeper if you want a deeper pool, and the temperature can be controlled by sweeping more cool water from the lake into your little handmade pool of choice.

The momentary drama of last evening was solved easily when Roger and Nancy spent the night at home, calling first thing in the morning to the dealer where they bought their rig. It was a 2012 model, without electronic keys, so they got a replacement key for just $7.00, and before noon they were back here in the mountains with us, rig opened up, and everything just fine.

Nancy and I decided to kayak over to the springs while Mo and Roger took the spring hike trail up over the hill. They found us in the pools, from a high spot overlooking the spring, but certainly not any kind of path I would want to climb down to get there. Kayaks are the only way to go. Mo and I had boated over there earlier in the morning for a soak and there already were some kayakers there enjoying the lovely little spring, but they called out saying they would be leaving within ten minutes or so, and I waited my turn. I had the springs to myself for a long time while Mo paddled east to the East Lake Resort in the distance.

East Lake shoreline hot springs So my afternoon soak with Nancy was the second of the day for me. What an amazing treat! After paddling back to the campground, we all settled in on the beach with the dogs and balls, and Nancy and I even braved the chilly waters for some swimming. A bit later I thought it might be interesting to see how Jeremy was in the kayak and that turned out great. He did really well, but finally decided that he wanted to leap back to shore. It is said that Turkish Angora kitties love to swim and Jeremy may have not loved it, but he definitely was a great swimmer. He kept his head above water and just swam into shore. He may have been a bit indignant, and he was definitely a bag of bones with all that wet fur, but he didn’t seem to mind that much. I took him in a couple more times and he proved his swimming abilities quite well. Jeremy goes kayaking while the doge play

We were treated to a nice clean fluffy cat when he finished drying himself off. The sun was brilliant and the pumice sands were warm and he liked being there, at least I think he liked it. He at least didn’t run away. kitty swim

We all settled in on the beach and I kept looking at the dark cliffs on the opposite shore of the lake. The wind wasn’t too strong and I decided to jump in the boat one more time for an pre-supper paddle. It was only about a mile and a half across the lake, but I paddled hard for a good 45 minutes before I finally approached the cliffs. No matter how much I paddled, they always seemed as though they were close, but I kept paddling and they didn’t seem to get any closer. In the shadow of the cliffs, the water was calm, and I could hear it lapping inside the eroded rhyolite volcanic rock caves. The water was very deep and clear and the cliffs had much more complexity that it appeared from a distance. In fact, they were almost scary.

There was a deep spiritual silence there, and the closer I got to the rock, the more I felt as though I needed to ask permission to be there. I looked up and said a little prayer before I paddled close and touched those dark rocks. Yeah, it was spooky, for no reason I can name. A powerful spot. I turned away after a time and paddled straight back across the lake without much trouble. I had purposely left the camera behind so I wouldn’t have to worry about it, and as I was silently cruising around those rocks I thought it was properly fitting that I didn’t photograph the moment. rougher than it looks!

The next morning Mo and I woke to glassy waters and decided that it would be fun to cross the lake once again, returning by way of the springs. Within minutes of launching, a big lake wind came up making for a very rough crossing. This time I did have the camera, but the I took very few photos, since I was paddling hard against the wind and current. We reached the cliffs, which seemed less spooky and actually more dangerous with the rough water. I could see how a storm could bash you right up against those dark rocks. We didn’t linger, and decided that it would be safer and easier to skirt the shoreline along the northeast side of the lake along the Cinder Hill campground and around past the East Lake Resort to the hot springs.

By the time we reached the springs, we had been on the lake longer than planned so a dip wasn’t in the cards, but it was good to be there at least one more time. Roger and Nancy had already left early that morning and we needed to be in Lapine by mid afternoon. We packed up in a nice breeze but I was still sorry to leave that beautiful, warm and sunny beach.

On the way out I thought it would be good to stop at the visitor center, but the parking was extremely limited, with only 15 minutes on the south side of the road and no parking signs everywhere else. I figured it wasn’t worth it, but hopefully next time I go to East Lake I can stop in to read about the monument and the geology. The Newberry area is “hot”, and there is some controversy brewing about companies planning to inject water under high pressure deep into the fissures in the lava to generate steam power. Ahh, let’s mess with nature just a little bit more. But since I am still writing this without the benefit of the internet, you will just have to search it out yourself!

A Day at Hart Mountain

Currently we are in Summer Lake Oregon Cloudy High 64 low 32 currently 48 We are heading back to Rocky Point this afternoon

Saturday May 25 Mostly Sunny High 58 Low 37

When the animal alarms went off at 5:30 this morning I looked outside to see crystal clear skies and a sun already nearly over the eastern face of the mountain. The magic hour, morning light. Rather than dawdle around, we got up and dressed, had our morning coffee and breakfast and were on the road east to Hart Mountain by 7am.

The road to Hart Mountain follows a track east from Plush, past old homesteads and hay ground, through the Warner Wetlands and along the northern edge of Hart Lake before turning to gravel. I am a sign junkie, so was tickled to find the wetland interpretive sign I had seen somewhere in a brochure. I didn’t realize that the Visitor Information Center was simply a series of kiosks and some shade shelters with signs.

I discovered once again why I need a fast! and much better telephoto for my Nikon 5100 than the cheapie one that I have. Those birds just refuse to come into proper focus no matter how many shots I try. No tripod probably doesn’t help, but I think it has something to do with the autofocus as well. When I manual focus it isn’t any better. Ah well, an Erin I will never be. Still, I included some of the photos just for fun to remember who was hanging around the wetlands.

We continued north along the road, coming to the Hart Mountain Antelope Refuge entrance sign, with a small campground just inside the boundary called Camp Hart Mountain. Surprisingly, this nice little camp is just a step up from boondocking, and still free.

The host couple told us that the Fish and Wildlife Service can’t figure out what to charge, so they left it free. There is potable water at the main shelter with picnic tables inside, very large open sites, and as I mentioned, a camp host. Nice for those long days when you leave your rig to go exploring on roads you might not want to take the big shiny RV.

Continuing up the road as it passes along the east side of the Warner Wetlands, we saw a few other boondocking opportunities on some BLM land along the lakes, but the east side of the road is all refuge and not open to parking. As we started up the steep hill east into the refuge, we saw a small sign, “Warner Overlook”. Perfect place for a short hike to the viewpoint on a gorgeous morning.

The desert stretches to the west, and the complexity of the Warner Wetlands follows the base of the ridge as far north as we could see. An interesting phenomena was the “bathtub ring” left along Poker Jim Ridge left behind when the huge Miocene lake receded as the climate went from moist tropical to dry desert over a few million years. There were lots of flowers blooming on the ridge, mostly varieties of Indian Paintbrush and buckwheats. It was a delightful walk.

Continuing east into the refuge, the road is still gravel, but very steep until it tops over the uplifted ridge and the eastern desert stretches to the distant Steens. The Scenic Backway continues along this gravel and dirt road for many miles, all the way to French Glen at the base of the Steens. It is a beautiful drive. I have a friend from Rocky Point who said she and her husband towed their fifth wheel all the way to French Glen across this road, nearly 100 miles, but they would probably never do it again. I have no desire to ever take the MoHo even as far as the Refuge Headquarters just 20 miles or so from the valley!

We decided to drive the Blue Sky road along the eastern edge of the refuge early in the day in order to see more wildlife and catch the early light. We hoped that this time we would be able to continue all the way around and connect up with the Hot Springs Campground in a full loop. We were a bit too early for many of the side roads which were still gated closed, including Skyline Drive, Black Canyon Road, and Old Military Road.

It was on the southernmost edge of our drive that we saw the most wildlife. Pronghorn are not technically an antelope, although the refuge is actually called an antelope refuge. This time of year the herds are fawning and so are more dispersed than usual when hundreds of individuals can be seen racing across the hills. Pronghorn actually developed their incredible speed during a time when there were two species of cats similar to cheetahs that were their main predators. They can run up to 45 miles per hour. Combined with keen vision and speed, they are usually only subject to predation when very young or ill.

The other wildlife species that is especially important on this refuge are the sage grouse, with a drumming chest and elaborate spring strut that is a renowned spectacle in the high desert springtime. We were a bit late for the courtship rituals, which occur in March and April. We didn’t see any sage grouse, but what we did see was gorgeous desert habitat thick with abundant grasses, healthy because no livestock grazing has been allowed in this refuge since 1994. We also saw areas that had been burned, as part of the habitat management to encourage more grasses and to stop sage from encroaching on the lush meadows, so important for the pronghorn.

Continuing west toward the base of Hart Mountain’s east slope, we saw only 2 other people, a couple of guys on 4 wheelers. There are stern rules about not going off road, and it appeared that these guys were obeying the rules. The rest of the morning we had to ourselves. Keep in mind that this was Memorial Day Weekend, and people were few and far between. The last time we camped at this refuge was Labor Day in 2004, and back then it was just as quiet, with just a few campers in the Hot Springs campground.

At the turn to what is called Blue Sky Camp and the road to Warner Peak, we were again stopped by road closed signs, and most disappointing of all, the road to Hot Springs was closed as well. Seems as though the only time of year to make this loop in a vehicle would be after August and before the fall snows. We had hiked the road from the campground end when we were here before, but this was just a day trip, and that hike wasn’t on the agenda for us.

We returned the way we had come, stopping to try out another side road that was open and on the map appeared to continue across the ridge. Instead it stopped at a small rather nondescript little meadow at a place called Robinson Draw Day Use Area. Ok then. We used the day use area to have our snacks in the car and then drove back out to the main road and headed back toward the turn to Hot Springs Campground.

The road into the campground was as we remembered, more decently maintained gravel for a few miles before you rise over a ridge and see the campground and meadow hot springs spread out beautifully below the snowy mountain above. I was excited about the hot springs, with wonderful memories of the white sandy bottom of the natural spring out in the meadow.

We drove around the campground a bit, checking out the camp sites, including the one we used so many years ago. With the recent burning of sagebrush, it didn’t look very appealing, and another area had been opened up along another draw that seems a bit claustrophobic along the brushy creek.

Finally we parked at the beautiful hot spring, surrounded by a stone wall erected many years ago by the Order of the Antelope. The spring itself is about a 8 x 10 foot rocky hole in the ground and the water is only about 97 degrees F at this time of year. It didn’t look particularly inviting at the moment, although I do remember great soaks there when we were here before. Instead, I wanted to wander out into the meadow to find my favorite little spring. There is was, a bit bigger than it used to be and a lot siltier. I ran back to the car to get a suit on and by the time I got back to the spring there was a bather already settled into the little pool.

Hot Spring culture is often dominated by natural sorts of folks who really like to soak sans clothing and this was no exception. The nice guy floated in the water and was very friendly and conversational with me while his parts floated conveniently just below the surface. I wasn’t too anxious to jump in with him, but I sat on the edge of the grass and dangled my legs while we talked for some time about the springs and he pointed out the next small spring up the meadow.

I wandered off to check out the spring, but it was incredibly small, with three different streams entering of different temperatures, and the only hot clean spot was about 2 feet wide and surrounded by saturated deep grass. Nah, maybe not. Then, as I turned around to walk back, I saw that the single bather at the first pool was leaving. Mo had been walking around with Abby, (she isn’t much of a hot springer), and I called her to bring the camera. I was getting in that pool and wanted the photo to prove it! Sure enough, it was warm, about 103 or 104, and while the silt on the bottom made it seem a bit murky, just under the silt was that nice hard sand I remembered.

Abby decided that the pool was a little bit strange, with all that warm water, and I got her in, but not for long. It was wonderful to be in the hot water, with great minerals and no smell at all. There wasn’t a sign of sulfur in the water. and after it settled a bit, the water was crystal clear. My friendly bather had stirred up all the silt, I guess just to get a mud bath or something, but by the time I finished soaking the water had cleared beautifully. ahhh.

We drove back out of the campground road, stopped at the refuge headquarters to talk about antelope and weather, and found that it had been 11 degrees F the morning before. Sure am glad we didn’t try to camp there then! It can be cold in these deserts! I picked up some brochures about the local birds and wildlife, and found a nice little brochure that lists 12 different day hikes that are available. There are also more than 200 bird species that have been recorded in the refuge and another brochure has a handy bird checklist.

We decided to take the road north to Petroglyph Lake with a short 4 mile hike that leads to petroglyphs on the basalt walls on the north side of the lake. Instead, we found that the rough basalt rocks in the road were too much to try to do with a patched spare tire, and with several cars parked just beyond where we could drive, we decided that it wasn’t worth it. There were a bunch of hikers getting ready to do the trip with packs and walking sticks and it wasn’t exciting enough for us to deal with the people. I guess we are getting spoiled with all this alone time and space and people seem like a jarring intrusion somehow.

We drove back down the steep gravel road with the gorgeous vistas of the Warner Wetlands and the desert, overlooking the distant sunstone digging area where we were yesterday, the white trailers just tiny dots on the horizon. On the way down, we saw a little sign to Warner Pond Day Use Area, and flipped a quick turn to follow a steep dirt road back up the face of the mountain slope. This road was really steep, and even in 4 wheel drive, the little Tracker did a bit of slipping and sliding. At the end of the road, however, was a precious jewel of a tiny fishing pond, even with a dock to launch a boat! We wondered just how anyone would haul a boat up that road unless it was on the top of their pickup.

Our hiking on this trip has been limited for reasons not mentioned until now. When cleaning house before we left, I was rushing around the kitchen and slipped on the wet floor and slammed my foot into something or other, who knows. Mo was gone, I laid on the floor for a few minutes feeling sorry for myself, and my foot turned blue half way up the midstep. I think I broke my big toe. Not particularly fun, and not particularly conducive to any kind of lengthy hiking trips. At least I can still walk, but thought I might mention why we haven’t been doing much hiking on this trip.

We traveled back home along the same route to our lovely boondock site, still empty and quiet and cool enough for Jeremy. The weather had cooled quite a bit and it looked like rain, so we settled in to relax, read, and nap till dinnertime. It would be Jeremy’s last day of desert freedom since our next stop will be in Summer Lake at an RV park, not likely a place where we can just let Jeremy out to play so easily. By late afternoon a few pickups and 4 wheelers drove past our campsite, waving to us, but no one attempted to infringe on our nice open boondock site. The site is big enough to easily accommodate several rigs, so I am glad no one decided to bother us.

Sunstone Day

Today, on Memorial Day, we are in Summer Lake Oregon where it is raining

Plush Oregon May 24 Sunny and cool High 60 Low 37

Ahh, let’s sleep in. Except no one told the dog and the cat. Abby has this thing, she shakes so that her collar rattles. Jeremy starts purring. Loud. Both of them begin this little ritual at exactly 5:30 AM. Not such an issue in a big house, but in a small RV? I think we did manage to sleep till 6am at least.

The skies were clear and gorgeous, but we had no desire to run off in a hurry. Our plans for the day were to drive the 20 plus miles of gravel and dirt road to the BLM Sunstone Collection Area and root around for the Oregon state gem. No need to get out there when it was still in the 30’s, no matter HOW sunny the skies were.

Point A is Plush, B is our boondock site, C is the turn off the hogback road E is the next turn and F is the digging area.

Instead I made some rich, dark Seattle’s Best french press coffee, and toasted some of the sourdough bread we still had left over from the Bakkery in Mammoth Mountain to go with our yummy, leisurely breakfast. We settled Jeremy in with the Fantastic Fan set to go on if it got warm, loaded up Abby and snacks into the Tracker and headed north with our shovel, bucket, and 1/4 inch mesh screens Mo built for this day.

The BLM roads show well on the map, and we also had several brochures I picked up from the Interagency Office yesterday in Lakeview with varying degrees of clarity describing the route. There are several private mines in the area around the public digging sites, but our first destination would be an area where we could just walk around and pick up the beautiful sunstones right on the ground. Why look for sunstones? Why not? We knew the chances of finding anything particularly valuable were slim, but sunstones are lovely little feldspar crystals, most often a clear pale yellow and sometimes pink, green, or shades of red depending on the level of copper inclusions.

Day 2 sunstones_006DSC_0006 The Hogback road goes north from our boondock site near Plush and eventually will hook up to Highway 395 near Abert Rim, famous for hang gliding jumps. The Sunstone area is east of the Hogback, and the several roads and turns are actually well marked if you pay attention. Nice sized signs saying “Sunstone Area” are at each turn. The roads are all gravel, not dirt, and they are rough, with sharp stones. We had a spare tire, but if we did this again we might think about bringing two spares.

UhOh. We had just arrived at the shade shelter near the digging site when Mo saw the flat tire. It wasn’t too difficult changing the tire, but we weren’t too happy about our plans to explore more rough roads later in the day without a spare. We also weren’t too happy about the fact that the nearest place to buy a tire was a very long way back in the town of Lakeview.

Not to worry, we just decided to think about it later and get on with the adventure of looking for sunstones. The brochure for the sunstone collection area says to just keep your eyes to the ground, looking for the translucent yellow stones lying among the rocks. Of course, you can also dig, but are asked to fill in any holes you excavate.

We spent most of our time walking the draws, thinking that the erosion would bring stones to the surface, but found out later that there are often more and bigger stones up on the flat areas northwest of the shelters. Large ant hills are everywhere, and sometimes they excavate nice sunstones and leave them lying around.

We were a bit nervous about driving off into nowhere with a flat spare tire, so only wandered off less than a mile and took off walking again. In some areas around the anthills the sunstones were so numerous it looked like the ground was covered with glitter. Most of these stones, however are less than 1 or 2 mm in diameter. We found as the day wore on it took a bigger specimen to get us to bend over and pick it up. By the end of a couple of hours of exploring we had a nice little stash of glittering, lovely sunstones, and a few that were as big as an inch.

We had planned to stop at the Spectrum Mine, just a couple of miles further down the road, but with the tire problem we thought it might be smart to stop at the Dust Devil Mine, located right at the entrance road to the BLM public diggings. We knew that our chances of finding a tire any closer than Lakeview were really slim, but still we thought it might be good to stop and ask. We had no desire to do what is called “Fee Digging” at the mine.

We drove in and parked near the collection of old trailers and piles of mineral specimens. In a few minutes, an older guy with a big gray beard showed up and when we asked him about how far to a town with a tire, he said, “I think I may have one that fits out back”. Whew! In the mean time, Mo decided to take the punctured tire off the rack and as she did another guy came up and looked at it and said, “I can fix that!” and off he went with our beat up tire. Within moments he was back with a repaired tire and a warning to get it replaced as soon as we could. At least we had a spare to get us back to civilization. No charge.

We all stood around and talked tires for awhile and they all insisted that we had to have 6 ply tires to drive these gravel roads without mishaps. Included in the conversation were lots of stories about 2 or more flats on a single trip. Hmmm, maybe a place for carrying 2 spares. We didn’t even carry two spares on the back roads of Alaska! They ended the conversation with an invite to watch how the fee digging worked.

The equipment is all huge and crazy looking. The sunstones occur in the clay layer below the basalt where the feldspar cooled slowly enough to form large crystals. Varying levels of copper in the crystals lend the pink, red, or even combinations of red and green colors to the really fine stones. For 50 bucks, you get a hopper load of ore dropped onto a moving belt where you pick out the sunstones among the basalt gravels. Then you have to decide what pieces you want because you have to pay for “color” you wish to keep, at 1/3 the wholesale price.

It looked fun, and the couple that was doing the picking had come from Red Bluff, California. They had found several pieces worth faceting in the past and the woman had some very nice sunstone jewelry to show for her efforts. Still, we hadn’t come expecting to pay for sunstones, we just wanted a little bit of collectible stuff and we already had that. After the belt was finished, the nice guy who had fixed our tire unlocked the main trailer to let us in to see some of the beautiful faceted sunstones they had for sale.

There are several “fee digging” mines in the vicinity of the public area, and who knows how to decide which one to visit. Just on the basis of pure friendliness and fun I would highly recommend the Dust Devil Mine. Oregon sunstone was declared the Oregon State Gem in 1987 and the Dust Devil Mine started operating just a few years after that. The sunstones are only found in the remote high deserts of Lake and Harney counties. It is a great place if you like to rockhound and putter around in the desert.

We had planned a different route home via a western route to the Hogback, but our guys (I can’t believe I never got their names) insisted that we shouldn’t attempt that route. They said it was longer and rougher and meaner. So we went back the same way we came, taking a little side road east to drop down into the Warner Wetland area and along the edge of Flagstaff Lake, one of the larger water bodies in the complex wetlands.

Back up on the 6155 road, we passed a beautiful basalt cliff tucked into a western hill that looked inviting. Turning up the dirt road led uphill to another beautiful overlook site perfect for boondocking. The view east of the mountains was gorgeous, but the site was fully visible from the road below. The other down side is that this site was about an additional 7 miles of travel on rough gravel road. For some reason, we don’t want to do that in the MoHo unless absolutely needed. I laugh at this thinking about our 115 mile run on dirt on the Top of the World Highway in Alaska, but why do it if you don’t need to? If our current spot was filled, we might consider traveling north to this other site when we come back to this area.

Once back at camp we settled in for a lovely late afternoon. Jeremy loves this site because he has free run of the desert. There are some sage surrounding the site, but he does a pretty good job of staying close and rolling in the gravel.

We kicked back on the chairs enjoying the cool sunshine and I even took some time to practice my hand quilting before Mo started up the bbq for supper. Once again, we waited for a dramatic sunset, but the skies were subtle and the sun set in nothing less than a blaze of non-glory.

Jeremy loves the freedom of hanging out in the desert, and even found a new toy

The Other Oregon

Currently we are in Summer Lake, OR in wild rain and hail

This was written from Plush Oregon May 23 High 52 Lo 32

There is a mindset called Oregon. Usually it revolves around lots of green and lots of rain. Images of Mt Hood, the Oregon Coast shrouded in fog, verdant green valleys dotted with farms, vineyards, little villages with covered bridges are the epitome of beautiful Oregon. But there is another Oregon, one that covers more than 2/3 of the state. The East Side as we call it, is high sage desert, bisected by Highway 395, that mythical road so many RV’rs love to travel. But even beyond 395 lies a wild and empty Oregon called by some the Oregon Outback.

There is a Scenic Back Country Byway that exits east from 395 just north of Lakeview, following Highway 140 through the Warner Canyon and then leaving the highway to travel north and east through the Warner Valley, where the pavement ends, over Hart Mountain, and crossing the open desert toward the remote wild mountains called “The Steens”.

It is a huge, vast, silent land full of nothing and everything. Several times in the last few years we have passed along the southern boundary of this wild country on our way east somewhere and looked up at Hart Mountain…saying…remember? Remember how wonderful it was?? Yes, we remembered and finally decided it was time to return to Hart Mountain and the wild Oregon Outback.

On this week long journey, we didn’t plan to go to the Steens, saving that for another time later in the season. Our decision was a good one, since the upper reaches of the Steens are still deep in snow. We planned for three nights boondocking, and knew that we didn’t really want to get to the Plush area too early in the afternoon, so had to wait until noon to leave Rocky Point. It was funny how hard it was to go slooooow, and take…our….time….before….getting….on the road. Usually on travel days we are all hot to trot and want to get moving early.

The route to Plush, Oregon, where we planned to find a boondock site, is a familiar one: traveling east on 140, through Klamath Falls, continuing east through my old survey area in remote parts of Klamath County near Beatty and Bly and finally arriving at the small town of Lakeview. Even though we were only 1/3 tank down in fuel, it was important to make sure our fuel was topped off before heading into the outback. There is no fuel out there, the distances are long, and we would need to use the generator.

Another important Lakeview stop was at the Interagency Office right on 395 just south of town. I spent $4.00 on a Lakeview District BLM map, at a scale that makes navigating the desert reasonably easy. We also have the GPS unit, (sort of useless when most of the time it says “driving on road”), and the DeLorme Benchmark maps for the area. The phone and the iPad are useless out here, since there are no signals anywhere. Well, almost no signals, but I’ll share that one later.

The cold, snowy storms that blew through this part of the west were almost gone by the time we reached Lakeview, but there were still huge clouds and some snow flurries here and there as we crossed Quartz Mountain. Once on Warner Pass, where we expected snow, we were blessed with only a little bit of rain. The skies cleared as we climbed up over the pass, turned north on the Plush Cutoff and were awed once again by the long uplifted fault block mountain that is Hart.

Home to the largest antelope refuge in the country, with a western scarp slope populated with bighorn sheep, Hart Mountain rises from the desert like some kind of mystical dream. Maybe it is only me, but this mountain calls my soul in ways that even the Steens don’t. I know, I know, it wasn’t long ago that I was raving about the east slope of the Sierras. Still, Hart Mountain looming above the Warner Valley is a sight no mountain lover should miss.

It isn’t a group of dramatic peaks. Instead it is a long linear mountain, with a steep western scarp rising 3,500 feet to the 8,000 foot summit, and an east slope that slips off gently to the eastern desert. The top looks nearly flat from a distance, but a closer inspection reveals many deeply cut canyons and cliffs that I have never seen except from the road. I think my days of exploring these rugged canyons on foot are long behind me.

On this Thursday afternoon, the early beginning to the long Memorial Holiday Weekend, we were very nearly alone on the road into Plush, a tiny community best known for its tiny grocery store and bar and its rock shop. Armed with our BLM map, however, we had no need to stop, and headed north through town on the Hogback Road. Within three miles, the road turns to rough gravel, and a few hundred yards after that, road 6175 winds up Miners Draw into the Coyote Hills. We unhooked at the turn to go check for a place to be.

Just up the road, on the crest of the hill overlooking the valley, we found a large rounded out area, flat as can be, protected on three sides by a low hill and facing the beautiful scarp of Hart Mountain in the east. The site was clean and smooth except for a small pile of firewood someone had left behind, and we couldn’t believe what perfect luck to find such a spot.

Settling in for the evening, we walked up the road into the hills for awhile, and came back to fix supper while we waited for the sunset. The full moon was coming up at 7:30 and the sun was setting at 8:30.

Spectacular, or so we thought. Even with the clouds in the west, the sunset was rather dull. I guess with zero pollution there isn’t anything around to refract the light and make color. Our night was utterly silent, utterly dark except for the moon in and out of the clouds. Boondocking at its very finest!